NO horse ever took the eye as Sprinter Sacre did. Arkle had an aura, Best Mate in motion was close to equine perfection, but Sprinter was in a different league. If he entered a dressage arena, he’d steal attention from Valegro (don’t mention the d word).

He fitted the oxymoron - a beast of beauty, indeed, a Yeats-like ‘terrible beauty’ to the many who were forced unavailingly to chase the elegant arc of his tail.